Overhaul
by Artful Doodler
Summary: Taken from Ron Weasley's point of view. Please read and review.


I'd seen the signs – new haircut, faint bruises on her neck… bite marks on her inner thigh. We'd been married for five years and I knew this woman like I knew my own self. I was an authority on what she liked, disliked and how she liked it served up to her. Smart, compassionate, fun-loving, sporting a sexy damn body with "hello there!" tits and a "ride me" arse, she was a wild woman… or rather, she used to be. Lately, she'd been standoffish, prone to headaches and excuses, and that just wasn't like her. Sex had been major in our marriage. Now it's "I'm not feeling so good. I'll make it up to you some other time." I tried to ignore it but if I was a betting man, I'd put everything I had on this: My wife was having an affair.

Moonlight flooded the room. I stared at her lying next to me, white peachy skin, and long hair curling around her pillow. She looked angelic sleeping there, head atop of her hands. I ran a finger over her soft, peachy flesh. She flinched slightly; moved away. Oh how I wished she'd open her eyes, turn into my hot body, and make me believe she was mine and only mine. But she didn't. She rolled onto her stomach, head facing away from me, awake now. I knew if I touched her again I would feel clenched muscles unresponsive to my touch.

I threw back the covers, headed into the kitchen for a glass of Coke, just to think. I left the lights off. I'd memorized the layout of our house too well to need it. Grabbing the beverage, I stepped onto the terrace, wanting to look into the starry night as I sorted out my thoughts.

Just as I popped the top, I heard a muffled, "Ahhhhhhhhhh…" My hand stilled as I searched for the origin of the sound. I was surprised to see the drapes open in the rear room of my neighbour, a mousy woman who skittered away whenever I spoke to her. She wore her hair in a tight bun, worn schoolmarm clothes, but she was a librarian so I guess it went with her image or something.

I heard the moan again, and then the librarian popped into view… except I'd never seen her looking like this. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, bullet breasts I didn't know she possessed were encased in some sheer fabric and a G-string barely covered the essentials. Damn, she was hot! Who knew?

A dark man followed behind, grabbed her hair, pushed her against the wall, and ripped the scrap of bra off her body. I grew apprehensive, not sure if I should dial 999 or just watch. The devilish side of me said _Watch_ so I waited. I had second thoughts as the man lifted a short riding crop and began lashing it across her heavy breasts. Just as I'd convinced myself to call the police, she leaned back, held the reddening orbs out as he continued to lash them. My cock surged to life as she grabbed his head and sucked his tongue into her mouth; head rolling as they tongue duelled to death. Damn!

The man ripped the knickers from her hips, dropped his pyjama bottoms, to reveal a curved average-size dick. I felt precum forming as I watched him lift a leg, position himself, surge into her pussy. Our librarian surprised me further as she pistoned back on him, groped his arse, propelling him forward, giving as good as she got.

Precum leaked when the man suddenly pulled out, turned her around and rammed back into her. The man rode his mare, hands twisted into her long hair. She bucked cowboy high, breasts bouncing into the air. The cherry nipples were distended at least two inches. I licked my lips, imagined suckling those berries.

I stroked myself then, pulled at my tight, wet head, as our librarian thrashed and contorted on the unknown man. I couldn't close my eyes, couldn't imagine any other image than the one in front of me. I stroked and watched as they rolled and pitched, his pelvis melded to her arse. Finally, he pulled out; shot his cum over her back.

My hand was slick with my juice. I wanted some loving. I started to keep stroking, get myself off, but no, this hard-on I had was too good for a hand job – especially when I had a wife.

My brick rod bounced as I walked back into the bedroom. She hadn't moved an inch. I pulled the shirt over my head, dropped my bottoms and slid into bed. She was snoring a little so I knew this was no act.

I skimmed knuckled over her sumptuous Megan Fox arse before palming it. Lifted her hair and rained kisses across her back and neck. I glided lightly up and down her satin skin; was rewarded with a sigh. I ran my hot hands between her knees, rubbed them as they parted for me. I took my time running fingers into her bush… _gawddamn, she was already wet_… flicking across her clit.

A sharp intake of air.

Good.

My cock pulsed as I slid down her back, between her legs, dipped my head. My tongue already knew the route as it sliced between her lips and headed for her clit.

She moaned then.

My head rotated as I wrote the alphabet and the numbers one to one hundred in her pussy. Her wet lips grasped, clenched… snapped around my tongue. _That's it, talk to Daddy_. Her hands could no longer be still. They rubbed over and over my head, nudging, pushing, and guiding me.

I lifted, slid her down the bed to my throbbing cock. I seated those lush lips on my thighs before I pushed into her, swerved and pistoned into _my_ hot snatch. She hiccupped, pulled a pillow to her mouth and bit the fabric… but worked her arse like she knew who owned a pussy.

I was in heaven as my slick dick hit all the right spots. Her belly quivered, legs shook as I showed her pussy how much I loved it. I _am_ The Man! Then… she threw her legs over my shoulder and clenched. Her pussy muscles groped, caressed, fisted my cock. Go_t_damn! She was tight! My balls swelled, head mushroomed as she brought the thunder, lightning, hail, cannon and… milked my arse dry.

The following day, it was business as usual. No mention of the great sex the night before and believe me, we hadn't had mind-stunning sex like that in a minute. It had gotten routine, stale, no real passion behind it. Just convenient.

Clad in a short, but tasteful, skirt that hugged her bountiful arse and nipped in her waist, she rinsed out her coffee cup, gave me a peck to the lips before grabbing her jack and purse. I watched through the window as she stabbed a number in her phone and smiled as she spoke into it as she backed out of the drive. I had to wonder who she was calling this early and, more important, what was said to make her smile like that.

I stood there, mind heavy, watching the rain tapping against the pane. As our undercover sexpot librarian darted through the drizzle to her car, I was determined to get _us_ back on track.

I cooked dinner and had a dozen red roses waiting when she arrived home.

"What's this about, Ron?" she asked, flicking her long hair off her shoulders, eyes apprehensive.

I wanted to blurt out, "Your affair," bit instead I just smiled and served her dinner. Besides, I had no proof and didn't plan to hunt for any. Like my grandmother always said, "If you go looking for a booger, you're bound to find a fat one." Things would come to a head one way or the other.

I played some Santana, slow-danced her around the room, tried to show her what she meant to me as I grooved her to my groove. But soon, the smile she'd had earlier faded and she excused herself, said she'd had a long day, was feigning sleep as I lay next to her a few hours later. _Shit!_

The gunning of a motor woke me. I walked to the living room, stared out, smiled as I saw the man from last night hopping off a Harley. My gut clutched, cock lurched as the memory flooded back. I hoped and prayed for a rerun.

My prayers were answered.

Librarian Lady walked into her back room wearing a black shiny getup that had those tits front-and-centre, nipples free, arse cheeks hanging out and high-heeled boots. The man crawled on his hands and knees behind her. She held a leash fastened to a choker around his neck in her hands.

_This ought to be interesting_.

She said something to the man who nodded, head facing the floor. She slapped him then. _Oho!_ I threw my fist over my mouth, stopping the chuckle about to escape as his head snapped back like a boomerang. Chick packed a wallop!

Ms. Librarian then sat on a stool, legs crossed. I watched her red lips bark something to the man. He began licking the tips of her boots. Her lips moved again. The man licked up the boots and to her knees. She parted her legs; revealed those shorts had no centre. Her pinkness seared my brain; made my half-mast cock wake to high alert.

The man nibbled inside those skinny thighs as he drifted higher and higher. Our local librarian's head was thrown back, chest heaving as he reached the mother lode. Her head and neck twisted with abandon as he tongued the hell out of her. Face contorted, body writhing, I lip-red the "Oh God! Oh God!" she spoke to the ceiling.

_Shit!_

The man switched places, took charged as he pulled the librarian from the stool, shoved her to her knees, and pushed his cock between her red lips. She opened wide, swallowed him whole. Her cheeks sucked in, face bounced against his pelvis in relish.

I don't remember pulling my cock out, stroking myself, hips pumping in the air, but I was. The man grabbed those long nipples, pushed her tits around his cock as he mouth-fucked her. Librarian cupped his balls and he went ballistic. His hands tangled in her hair as he slammed into her mouth again and again. I watched in amazement as she grabbed his arse, added her muscle to his momentum. In seconds, he pulled back and spurted white viscous fluid over her chest, which she rubbed into her skin.

I was past horny. I was about to explode!

On anxious legs, I strode back to our bedroom. I shed my clothes, slid beneath the covers again. My hands roamed across Hermione's belly as I nipped her shoulder, licked her earlobe, and rubbed my rock-hard dick against her arse. I ran my hand into her knickers, was feeling for her clit when she stopped me.

"I'm sore," she protested.

"That's all right," I assured her. I turned away, felt for the tube of K-Y jelly in the nightstand. I lubed my pole, and then squirted more on my fingers. I rolled back, began sliding the slippery lubricant between her arse cheeks as I sucked her neck.

"We haven't done this in a minute," she reminded me.

_Way too long_. "I know. I'll be gentle," I said, mouth reclaiming the patch of skin I'd been sucking. I blew into her ear and she seemed to _ignite_. Her body moved against me, her arse ground against my hardness, hands reached behind, rubbed my head. I directed my cock into the high hole and pushed. She moaned as I slipped past her sphincter. Relaxed as I slid in further.

"Damn," she said before reaching into her nightstand, pulling out her mini-bullet vibrator.

Her Milky Way was tight as heck! My breath was laboured as I held back, tried not to let my body take over, piston into her in my need. I stroked slowly, stretching an inch at a time as I fed my dick in her arse.

She inserted her bullet… and took me over the edge. _Aw shit!_ I couldn't stop as the vibrations mad me pump, hump, and grind into her. She pushed back, hand reaching around grasping my arse cheek. I rode her vanilla highway in eighth gear.

Then… she put the bullet on my balls. I double-pumped as the vibration radiated through my sac. She put an arch in her back, made me sweat, slobber, speak in tongues, bite my tongue. I don't remember cumming. I just remember bliss flooding my body before my eyes rolled into my head.

The following morning the conversation was a little livelier.

"What's gotten into you, Ron?" she questioned as she sipped her coffee.

I'd slipped into the shower, massaged her fully before I bathed her down. "You mean us, don't you?"

"Okay. What's gotten into us?" A smile played at the edges of her mouth.

"Ain't nothing wrong with a husband loving his wife, now, is there?" I replied, leaning over to kiss her. She opened her mouth, gave me some tongue action. I flicked, glided, sucked and bit her tongue. I wanted her to understand that whatever she was looking for was already there.

She pulled back first. "If we keep this up, I'm gonna be late." Her chest heaved.

_Not a bad idea_. But instead I fixed her mussed hair and ran a finger over her cheek, locking eyes with her the entire time.

She stood there, mouth agape, as I turned to the refrigerator. I flexed my butt as I reached for the orange juice. She was in the same spot when I turned back.

"What?" I teased.

I saw the questions in her eyes; refused to answer them. She smiled again and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all." She picked up her purse and glanced back at me. "See you tonight."

I walked over, pulled her into a hug and gave her another tongue lashing before releasing her. She wobbled, reached for the cabinet to balance. Said nothing more as she walked on unsteady legs up the hall, head shaking the entire time.

I watched her as she entered her car and backed out. No phone today. Good.

I kept up the sex pace. Thanks to Librarian Lady and her man, my dick surged to life whenever I heard a car next door. It was like we were on our honeymoon again. I was happy when I woke in the morning, satisfied when I closed my eyes. But Paradise doesn't last forever. My wife finally had "The Chat." I'd expected it sooner than this but in any event, I was ready.

"Honey, we've had sex five times this week. We've got to slow down. It's wearing me out," she complained.

Trying to love isn't easy to do. But one thing I'd decided: If one of _us_ was gonna be missing out on the pussy, It wasn't gonna be me.

"Aw, baby, you know I never could get enough of your good loving," I smoozed, pulling her into my arms.

She tensed, held me at arm's length. "I enjoy you too. It's just that…" Her eyes looked everywhere but at me. "I'm getting worn out from…" _Sexing two men_. "…From us staying up so late and everything," she finished lamely.

There were fatigue lines around her eyes and her mouth was tight. Most likely, her other love was sweating her and she'd had to put him off, couldn't work for him over since I'd been laying down the pipe like I had a plumber's degree. She wasn't tired, she was worried.

I smiled slyly as I answered, "I'll try, but I can't promise anything. As a matter of fact, why don't you take the day off and let me _refresh_ you?"

She grabbed her purse and ran out the door.

She came home, arms heavy with folders. "I'll be up half the night trying to finish these," she said for clarification.

I wondered briefly why she couldn't complete them at the office, but held my tongue. Sometimes work did follow you home. She'd said nothing when I'd done it so I stayed silent.

I missed her as she worked in the office. I watched television, tried not to think about sex, but that's all that was playing in my head – good sex with my wife. I finally went to bed around eleven while she sat there pecking at the computer, files all around her.

The revving of an engine woke me again. I felt across the bed, realized my wife wasn't there. I heard footsteps and my heart clutched. I wanted to get up, see if our local librarian was putting on another show, but how to explain my forays into voyeurism to my wife?

I lay there as footsteps advanced into the kitchen. Heard the refrigerator door open and close… gulps of soda and light coughs afterward… the terrace curtain being slid aside… the door opening. I sat up then, wanting to stop her; wondering what was happening. Instead, I sat there frozen as a sweat broke out of my forehead.

After fifteen minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. I crept to the patio door. My wife stood on the terrace staring at the same room I'd been a front-row voyeur to. My eyes glanced at the room window. Ms. Librarian was being reamed out, the man straddling her back, his tongue hanging out.

I walked behind my wife; wrapped my arms around her waist. She leaned into me, whispered, "Have you ever seen anything so fucking delicious?" Her body began rocking, pelvis thrusting slightly. My cock picked up her vibe and reared his big-arse head. I licked and nibbled as she stared.

When Ms. Librarian buckled on a strap-on cock and stood behind the man, my wife lifted her skirt, spread her legs. I slid those knickers down her peachy legs, pulled her skirt over her arse.

She watched. I kissed those beauteous globes.

She moaned. I alternately sank my tongue into both of her holes.

She rolled. I sucked her clit, feasted on her honey loving.

She raked her nails across my head. I lifted, slung over the railing, pulled her titties free.

She spread wide. I surged in, pumped for all I was worth.

We made the terrace quake in our passion. A chair tap-danced across the floor as I put my back into it. A potted flower splattered to the floor as she pumped back.

I fucked everything I had. I yielded no quarter. Give me everything or give me nothing. I wanted her to know what she had, what she was working with.

A light was switched on. Still we fucked.

A surprised "What the hell?" was uttered. Still we fucked.

Ms. Librarian and her man now watched us, clapped, and goaded us on. Still we fucked.

The slap! slap! slap! Of our bodies made the neighbour's dog bark like crazy. Still we fucked.

We fucked, _fucked_, fucked, FUCKED, and_ FUCKED_ until we both howled to the moon in ecstasy. Made car alarms go off in response. Collapsed onto the chaise lounge still fused. Dreamed in each other's arms in the morning dew.

That night, my wife walked into the house, strutted to the bedroom and returned half-naked. She said nothing as she melded her mouth to mine, cupped my balls before stroking my cock through my pants. I held my breath as her fingers slid my zipper down. My dick saluted. She stuck her tongue out, lightly flicked the tip, her eyes trapping my own.

"Your turn," she whispered.

I do believe we are back on track.


End file.
